


Keep Making Trouble

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Pete puts on a pair of leather pants. Patrick kinda likes them.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Keep Making Trouble

"What in the hell are you wearing?" Patrick asked as he walked into Fall Out Boy's dressing room a half hour before the start of the show.

Pete finished tying his shoe and looked up, grinning. "Like them? The wardrobe manager found them for me." He turned to look at himself in the full length mirror hanging on the door. "I think they make my ass look pretty good, don't you?"

Patrick swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he finally said, his eyes fixed on the curves of Pete's ass encased in leather. "Yeah. It looks really good."

"You really think so?" Pete asked, turning this way and that.

"Yeah," Patrick said again, nodding. "I really think so."

"Then I'm definitely wearing them tonight," Pete said as he put on his denim jacket and reached for his guitar. It was then he noticed the look on Patrick's face. "Trick? You okay?"

"Yeah...fine." Patrick picked up his guitar as well. "Ready finally? Or do you need to preen in front of the mirror some more?"

Pete stuck his tongue out at him. "I look damn good and you know it."

"Yeah...okay. You're a real heart breaker." He began to gently push Pete toward the stage. "Let's get out there before the fans wonder where we are."

*****

They came offstage after playing "Saturday" with Pete laughing like a loon and Patrick so aroused he could barely think. _Why in the hell did he have to wear those fucking tight pants?_ he thought for the thousandth time. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had possessed to keep his hands to himself thee entire show.

 _I'm going to strangle the wardrobe manager the next time I see her,_ he promised himself as he handed off his guitar to one of the road crew and followed Pete to their dressing room. His hands were itching to rip the bassist's pants off him. _Just a few minutes more..._

Going in, Pete sank onto the couch, a wide grin still on his face. "Great show," he said "And the fans loved the pants. You don't know how many of them tried to feel me up when I went into the crowd."

 _Yes, I do. I kept track,_ Patrick thought with a scowl as he reached into the mini fridge for a bottle of water. he tossed it to Pete. "I saw," he said, glaring at him. "I think some of them actually did." He pulled a bottle out for himself as well.

"No, but they came pretty damn close," Pete said as he opened it and took a long sip. He looked at Patrick, tilting his head. "Are you sure you're okay? You've got the strangest look on your face."

"I'm fine," Patrick said, turning away. "Fine."

It was then that Pete realized what was going on. "Wait a second...are you jealous?"

Patrick stalked over to him. "And what if I am?" he demanded. "One way or the other you're changing out of those right the fuck now."

Pete's eyes danced merrily in the bright light. "And what if I say no?"

Standing in front of him, Patrick yanked him up by his jacket's lapels and gave him a rough kiss. "Take them off. Now," he ordered, his hazel eyes black with lust. "Or you're walking home naked."

Gulping, Pete did as he was told, kicking them aside. his erect cock jutted out proudly from a mass of dark curls. "This what you want?" he asked.

"Yes," Patrick said, wrapping a guitar callused hand around the shaft, smiling when Pete let out a moan in response. "Not so sure of yourself now, are you?"

"Patrick," Pete begged, one hand reaching out. "Please...please touch me. I need you."

"Do you think you deserve to be touched after the stunt you pulled tonight?" Patrick asked, his voice taking on a playful tone. "I don't know..."

"Please?" Pete asked. "I'll do anything you want."

Patrick considered the idea. "Put your pants back on, Pete," he said as he picked them up and handed them over. "I'll take care of you when we get back to the hotel. Until then, you'll have to wait." he ran a finger over Pete's stubbled cheek. "But once we're behind that door...you're fucking mine."

Eyes wide, Pete saluted smartly. "Yes, sir."


End file.
